Chapter 13

Laurie, where is that worthless flashlight?” Her father’s voice echoed from the far end of the house.

She dropped her pencil and sketchbook on the kitchen table and pushed back her chair, the imaginary world crumbling. The flashlight stood on the table by the back door—the same place he always kept it. She scooped it up and carried it to her father’s room.

Dad’s lower legs and feet protruded from the closet, surrounded by dusty boxes and wooden packing crates.

Laurie frowned. “Are you looking for something, Dad?”

“Just give me the light, will you?”

His clipped tone made her heart skip. She shoved the light into his hand and backed away. A few small boxes tumbled out of the closet and one crashed at her feet, spilling its contents. She crouched down fingering the small pieces of jewelry, scarves, and hatpins. Her hands trembled as she gathered the glittering ornaments. Why must everything of Mother’s be kept hidden away? She scooped the items back into the box and clutched it to her chest.

As her father continued his search, Laurie stole down the hall, hurrying to her room. She shoved the small box under her bed. She’d return it later, after she’d looked through it.

“Laurie!” her father bellowed.

She jumped back to her feet and hurried back. “Yes?”

Here.” He thrust the flashlight into her hands. “Point it over here.” He gestured with his hand.

Laurie tried to hold the light steady as her father searched through a barrel of clothes, yanking through the taffeta gowns and lace-covered petticoats. She blinked away tears. She had no idea her father had even kept these things and now he pawed through them like they were meaningless. Her fingers ached to touch the beautiful fabrics.

“Can’t you hold that fool thing steady?”

She turned her eyes away, keeping the light pointed at her father’s hands. “What are you looking for?”

“None of your business.”

His harsh tone bit into her. He only talked that way when he was drunk—or when he wanted to be.

“There it is.” He laughed, an odd twisted sound. “You can scoot now.” Dad balanced on his knees, hands hidden from view.

Laurie switched off the light. He’s got early shift tomorrow.

“I said, get out. I want to be alone.”

She stumbled backward before turning and marching down the hall toward the kitchen. Her picture world waited.

The bedroom door slammed.

Laurie’s eyes glazed as she stared at the panel of jacks and cords. “Number, please.” She repeated the words, her earpiece silent. Laurie scanned the board and sighed—she hadn’t switched on her connection. “I’m sorry for the wait. Number, please.” Laurie struggled to keep her voice low and melodious as she had been taught.

“Oh, sweetie.” A thin reedy voice twittered into her ear. “I’m afraid I don’t know the number. I never seem to be able to remember.”

Laurie smiled, lifting the volume control. “Yes, Mrs. Creswell. I know. Who are you trying to call?”

“Mrs. Johnson down at the Fir Creek Crossing. Do you know Mrs. Johnson? Her son has never been the same since that awful logging accident. I like to check in on them every few days, just to see how they’re doing. I thought I might stop by, but I wasn’t sure if this was a good day or not.”

The back of Laurie’s neck itched, as if she could feel Mr. Quinn’s eyes on her. Four seconds. “Yes, Mrs. Creswell. I’ll connect you directly. Thank you.”

“That’s a good girl. Now make sure to get Mrs. Johnson on Fir Creek, not Mrs. Johnson on Cherry Hill. One of you girls made that mistake last time and I was so embarrassed.”

“Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Johnson on Fir Creek Crossing. I will connect you now.” She stifled a sigh. “Thank you.” She repeated the words drilled into her by her supervisor.

“Is this Millie, by the way?”

Laurie held the cord suspended, just an inch away from its connection. “No, ma’am. It’s Laurie Burke. I am going to connect you to Mrs. Johnson, now.”

“Oh, yes, Laurie. I was going to ask you about attending the library fundraiser next week. I thought you and your little friend Amelia might like to help with the punch bowl.” Another call light flashed and the fragrance of Mr. Quinn’s hair tonic hung in the air, always arriving a second before he did.

“I’d be happy to, Mrs. Creswell. I’ll come by later to discuss the details. All right? I’m going to connect your call.” Her voice rose in pitch with each word. She took a quick breath to relax her vocal chords. Low and melodious. “Thank you.”

“That would be fine, Laurie. I’ll look forward to it. Bye-bye, now.” A click sounded on the line.

Laurie pressed her knuckles to her forehead. Mrs. Creswell had hung up. She must have forgotten her call to Mrs. Johnson of Fir Creek. Should I ring her back?

The odor of Mr. Quinn’s hair tonic nearly choked her. “Is there a problem, Miss Burke?”

She lowered the cord back to the desk. “No, sir.”

“We are not to be carrying on private conversations from the switchboard. Do I need to remind you of that?” His nasal tone grated at her nerves.

“No, sir.”

“Very well.” He backed off a few paces, but his presence lingered.

One of the other girls had already picked up her other call. Laurie hesitated. She hated to ring Mrs. Creswell with Mr. Quinn on the alert, but she had little choice. She switched the cords and rang the Creswell line.

“Yes . . . hello?” Mrs. Creswell’s quavering voice crackled in Laurie’s ear.

“I’m standing by to connect you to Mrs. Johnson. Would you still like to complete that call?”

The old woman gasped, the sound hissing in Laurie’s earpiece. “Oh, my—I completely forgot. Yes, please, dear. I was also thinking­­—”

“I will connect your call now. Thank you.” Laurie jammed the cord in the jack. Hopefully Mrs. Creswell would just think she hadn’t heard.

Mr. Quinn eased away down the line of boards, honing in on another operator whose posture needed correction.

Susan, sitting at the next seat, tipped her head and winked at Laurie. “Mrs. Creswell?” she mouthed.

Laurie nodded and rolled her eyes before taking her next call. “Number, please.”

“Federal building, PA-2015, please.” A familiar baritone echoed in her ear, tickling the hairs on the back of her neck.

She took two quick breaths. “One moment, please.” Laurie scanned the board. She located the federal building’s connection and tapped the cord against the jack to test for an open line. A series of clicks sounded. Busy.

Laurie glanced down the row. Mr. Quinn leaned over a woman’s shoulder at the far end of the room. She checked the line a second time, now open. “I will connect you now. Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Samuel’s voice echoed.

Laurie made the connection to the switchboard at the federal building. Her hand hesitated over the switch that would disconnect her earpiece from the conversation. She glanced at the operator sitting to her left. “Susan,” she whispered, “I’m going to run a systems check. Can you cover my calls?”

Susan nodded, her gaze never leaving the board.

Pressing her palm over the earpiece, Laurie ran fingers across the board, going through the motions of checking the voltage meters and line connections.

Samuel’s voice sounded in her ear. “Yes, sir. I believe we may have some action on the area around Crescent Beach. Let’s keep a Coast Guard cutter in that area and watch for boats. I’ll take a drive out and survey from the beachhead. Some of the residents reported hearing squealing tires and grinding engines, like folks getting out in a hurry. I’m going to keep a few men on surveillance for a few nights and see what’s going on.”

A gruff sounding voice replied. “Keep me updated. Let’s give these clowns a good scare. Got it? How many men you need?”

Laurie bit her lip, her pulse quickening.

Samuel’s rich voice took over. “I’ve already talked to a few on this end. I think we’ve got it covered for now. If we see action, I’ll give you a call. But if you could make the arrangements with Gallagher over at the Coast Guard, I’d appreciate the backup.”

“I’m on it. Good work, Brown.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The lines went dead. Laurie returned the cords to their original positions, her fingers slick with sweat. The scent of hair tonic brought her back to the moment. She made a note in her log.

“Is everything all right, Miss Burke?”

She lifted her chin and smiled at the narrow-faced man reading over her shoulder. “Yes, Mr. Quinn. I thought I detected some crackling on the line, but I just ran a check and everything seems fine now.”

He adjusted his glasses. “You weren’t due for a check for another forty-five minutes. But I suppose that shows initiative, Miss Burke. Good work.” He wandered on down the line.

“I’ve got it now, Susan. Thank you.”

A line pinched between Susan’s brows. “Are you sure everything is all right?”

Laurie placed her hand over her mouthpiece. “It will be.”

Daniel maneuvered the broom around the edges of the doorway, guiding the road dust back to the street where it belonged. It had been a tougher job when he was a kid, before the roads and sidewalks were paved.

A dog sniffed its way down the sidewalk, its tongue lolling out to one side. Two doors away, the animal flopped on its haunches outside the grocery store.

It had been a busy afternoon, but now that Marcie had arrived, Daniel relished the quiet moment. That, and sweeping made it easier to keep an eye on the switchboard exchange door. On the tick of 5:30, it swung open. Laurie wore a yellow polka-dotted dress, short enough that he could almost see her knees under the hemline.

She kept her eyes to the sidewalk as she hurried down the street, not stopping to look into store windows.

Daniel leaned on the broom, clearing his throat to catch her attention before she ran over him.

Her eyes looked surprised. “Oh, Mr. Shepherd. I didn’t see you.”

“I noticed.”

She blushed. “Well, if you can excuse me, I­—”

Daniel stood firm. “I have something for you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small package.

She cocked her head to one side. “What’s this?”

Daniel smiled. “A new headache remedy. I’ve made some adjustments to the formula. That old one you keep requesting is quite outdated. I think you’ll find this one is much more effective.”

“That’s very kind of you, but I don’t have any money on me to pay you for it and our account—well, it’s . . .”

He pressed it into her hand. “It’s a free sample. If it works, you can come back and buy more.”

Her fingers closed around the packet, but jerked back from his touch. “I hear you spent some time with my brother.”

Daniel sucked in a deep breath, the pained expression on her face cutting into his heart. “We were classmates. I hadn’t seen him in years. It was good to get reacquainted.” He backed a step from the heat of her stare. “Look, Miss Burke.” He lowered his voice. “I expect you’re concerned I might tell someone about our first meeting. I don’t intend to embarrass you in any way.”

“Embarrass me?” Her voice hissed. She clamped a hand on her hip. “You don’t care about embarrassing me. If you did, you wouldn’t have rushed off to report to my brother about me spending time with Samuel.”

Coldness spread through Daniel. “I was concerned for you. I don’t think Mr. Brown is who you think he is.”

Her lips drew back from her teeth. “I know exactly who and what Mr. Brown is. You’re only concerned about yourself.” She thrust the package back at Daniel. “Take this back. I don’t want anything from you. I don’t want anything to do with people like you.”

Daniel took the package, bewildered. “People like me?”

She pulled off her hat, her short hair ruffling in the breeze. “And I will spend as much time with Samuel Brown as I like. At least he’s on the right side of the law.” She pushed past Daniel and took several steps down the sidewalk before turning and pointing her finger back toward his face.

“And just so you understand, I’m doing it for Johnny. The rest of you can rot in jail, for all I care.” She spun on her heel and marched off down the road, her hat clenched in her fist, her hair bouncing as she walked.

He stared after her, as lost as a boat drifting in the fog.

Laurie hurried toward home, climbing the steep hill on Cherry Lane. Somehow she would need to cook dinner for her father and still find enough time to slip out and warn Johnny before he left for the evening. As she approached Amelia’s house, she spotted Johnny’s car. She sucked in a quick breath, her steps growing lighter.

Amelia sat under the cherry tree in her parent’s front yard—Johnny stretched out on his back, snoring. She jumped to her feet as Laurie approached. Rolling her eyes at Johnny, Amelia paced across the yard to her friend. “Laurie, I’m so glad you’re here.” Her lip trembled as she spoke. “We were supposed to go on a picnic over at Lincoln Park, but then he called and said he didn’t have enough time. Mother suggested I invite him here, and now look!” She turned back to glare at the sleeping figure.

Laurie’s heart went out to her friend. “He’s been working late.”

“I know. I know.” She sighed. “And he told me that he’s been pulling double shifts, too.” She ran her hand along the whitewashed fence. “I don’t understand why he has to work so hard. Other men at the mill don’t put in nearly so many hours.”

She beckoned to Laurie. “Come join us. I’m sick of sitting here watching him sleep. I’ve already eaten most of the cookies.”

Laurie sank down onto the shady ground under the wide, spreading branches of the old tree. Clumps of green cherries stood out among the leaves, waiting for a few more weeks of sunshine to make them rosy red. As Amelia accosted her with a steady stream of chatter, Laurie let the anxieties of the day ease from her back and shoulders. Amelia’s home and yard had always been her haven, even as a child.

Her thoughts traveled to the image of Samuel Brown, smiling at her from the stool at Larson’s, his knee brushing against hers under the counter. Unbidden, the image of Daniel Shepherd standing on the sidewalk offering her the headache remedy, rose to her mind. “I was concerned for you. I don’t think Mr. Brown is who you think he is.”

“So tell me about him.” Amelia popped a strawberry into her mouth.

“What? Who?” Amelia’s question dragged her back into the conversation.

Her friend’s eyebrows puckered. “Honestly, Laurie, you and Johnny are cut from the same cloth. Haven’t you heard a word I said?”

Laurie scrambled to remember what her friend had been saying, the words escaping like smoke dissipating in the fresh air. “I’m sorry. I had a rough day at work. Tell me again.”

Amelia frowned. “Everyone’s working but me. Daddy won’t let me work and so I’m trapped all day with no one to talk to. Then when you all get home, you’re too tired to carry on a decent conversation.” She hugged her knees. “I was talking about Samuel Brown. Marcie says she’s seen you at the soda fountain twice with him and that you were quite friendly with him the second time. I guess my prayers are paying off.” She drew her lips down. “So, when were you going to tell me?”

Laurie shrugged out of her sweater, the air suddenly feeling uncomfortably warm. “There’s not much to tell. We ran into each other there one afternoon and he offered to buy me a soda. It seemed impolite to refuse.”

Amelia’s face brightened. She scooted closer. “And then?”

Laurie glanced over at Johnny to make sure he was still sleeping. “I saw him over by the courthouse and he asked to see me again.” A smile tugged at her mouth. She couldn’t deny that the agent’s interest was flattering.

“I knew it.” Amelia clasped her hands over her heart. “He’s such a good looking fellow.” She shot a guilty look at Johnny. “Well, not nearly as good looking as your brother, of course.”

“Of course,” Laurie echoed. Both women held hands over their mouths to quell their giggles.

“What’s he like?”

Laurie folded her sweater on her lap and fiddled with its buttons. “He’s very nice. He tells the most exciting stories about his job. And he likes being outdoors. That’s why he asked to be transferred up here from Seattle.” She avoided any mention of his roving hand.

Amelia scrunched her nose. “Imagine, someone wanting to come to Port Angeles.” She took another berry from the glass dish at her side. “But that’s perfect for you, Laurie. You always did like to be out in the woods and down at the beach and such.” Her eyes brightened. “You should take him on a picnic.” She sniffed, casting a glance at Johnny. “I bet he wouldn’t fall asleep.”

Another giggle tickled at Laurie’s chest. “No, I suppose he wouldn’t. That’s a good idea.”

Amelia sat up taller. “We could all go! Let’s plan it for a time when Johnny’s not working. We’ll go out to the beach. The weather is getting so nice. Just think how much fun it would be!”

Laurie’s stomach tightened. A double date with her brother—fun? Unlikely. “Not yet. I barely know Samuel. I need more time before I introduce him to my family. Johnny can be so protective.”

Amelia slid back down to the blanket. “Of course. You’re right.” Her face fell. “But before the summer is out, okay?”

Laurie nodded, but her heart sunk low in her chest. Lying to Samuel Brown was one thing. Lying to her best friend was completely different.

When Amelia excused herself, Laurie poked Johnny in the shoulder.

“Uh, wha’?” he mumbled, squinting at the dappled light coming through the leaves.

“Wake up. I need to talk to you before Amelia gets back.” Laurie jabbed him a second time.

Johnny didn’t bother to rise, just cupped a hand over his eyes to block the sun. “What is it?”

“Don’t go to Canada tonight.”

He pushed up to his elbows, his gaze skirting the yard. “Why?”

“They’re going to be watching the beach and a Coast Guard ship will be waiting in the bay.”

Lines appeared on his forehead. “I thought I told you­—”

“If you go to tonight, they’re going to catch you and put you in jail. I know what I’m talking about.”

Johnny sat all the way up and rubbed his face. “How do you know? Did Samuel tell you that?”

“I overheard him talking on the phone while I was at the switchboard.”

He grabbed his cap and twisted it in his hands. “I thought you said you could get fired for that.”

She glanced back at the house to double-check that Amelia hadn’t reappeared. “I thought it might be important.”

He blew out a large breath, the air whistling between his teeth. “I don’t like you taking those kinds of risks.”

Heat scorched through her veins. “Like you’re anyone to talk.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “All right, all right.” He sat silent for a long moment before dropping his cap on the blanket. “Did Brown say which beach he was watching?”

“Crescent Beach.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Gotcha.”

Cold fingers tickled at her spine. “Johnny­—”

“I won’t be anywhere near Crescent Beach. You got my word on that.”